


Not That Kind of Doctor

by CosmicFlora



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Team Talon (Overwatch), sick!gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 10:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicFlora/pseuds/CosmicFlora
Summary: Seeing the imposing figure of Gabriel Reyes, most wouldn't believe that there was anything wrong with his health. Some days are harder than others and Moira, in her own way, is just trying to help.





	Not That Kind of Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. There's no official lore telling us what exactly is wrong with Gabe, so of course I took some liberties. Mostly, I wanted to play with Gabriel's relationship with Moira and explore the possibility that she really is trying to help him.

Dr. Moira O’Deorain pretended not to notice when she heard a knock on the door. She was in her happy place, her own private lab in Oasis where she could work for days at a time if she wanted. She was free of interference and free of interruption, at least until now.

“I’m working,” Moira stated flatly when the knock came again. Even when the door opened, she didn’t bother turning around until a familiar voice rasped her name.

“Moira?” The doctor frowned at the dark clad figure at her threshold. Reyes never invaded her sanctum unannounced, unlike some people.

“Are you ill, Commander?” Reyes was trembling, using the door frame for support.

“Something’s wrong,” he ground out. “My stomach…”

“Well, don’t skulk about in the doorway, Gabriel. Come in.” The Reaper half floated, half stumbled into the laboratory. It was clearly taking most of his strength to remain upright. “Now, what’s the trouble?” Reyes inhaled sharply, more of a wheeze than a breath.

“I don’t feel so good…”

“Well obviously. But it’s not like you to seek medical attention for a stomachache,” Moira pointed out, brows furrowing in detached concern. “Let me have a look at you.”

\---

Reaper’s once handsome face was marred by the signs of constant cellular regeneration, and these days his doctor knew it best. While one could easily pick out Gabriel’s more prominent features, (his nose, heavy brows, and hazel eyes), it took concentration to make out the subtler details.

“Your color is interesting,” she mused. Reyes was so pale he was almost gray, and his eyes were glassy.

Moira pressed her palm to Gabriel’s forehead, ignoring the eerie, tickling sensation of smoke wafting from his skin. Low grade fevers were relatively common for Reyes, his body’s way of coping with the instability, but Moira thought he felt warmer than usual.

“You’re feverish. Have you eaten anything today?”

“No,” Reyes admitted, his broad shoulders tense. “Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

“We’ve talked about this, Gabriel. When you take your medication on an empty stomach, it's going to make you feel ill. You don’t need me to remind you.”

“I know that!” Reaper growled, temper flaring. “I know what I’m _supposed_ to do but sometimes I just can’t.” He was shivering, one arm wrapped tightly around his abdomen. “I can’t take it today.” Moira lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. Her patient was by nature a stoic man and usually took his condition in stride, but she could hardly judge him for being mentally and physically exhausted. Gabriel’s shoulders sagged under Moira’s touch. “I’m wasting your time. I’ll be fine.”

“Gabriel…” the unexpected softness in her tone caused him to look up at her. “Chronic illness will always come with good days and bad days and I am willing to help you through it. All I ask is that you try to take care of yourself too.” Reyes let out a ragged sigh and nodded.

“I’m trying, Doc.”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder before turning to search through her cabinets. Within minutes, she had an injection prepared. “I’m giving you something to settle your stomach and help you sleep. If your fever starts going up, you page me right away.” There was the ghost of a smile as Reyes nodded.

“Yes ma’am.”

\---

After three hours of unbroken silence, Moira’s nails left a series of dents in her worktable at the memorable sound of Sombra materializing.

“Yesss?” Sombra waltzed right in like she always did, but the frown on her face was all business.

“Hey Moira, is the Boss okay? He wasn’t looking so good this morning.” The geneticist’s jaw tightened.

“Are you unfamiliar with the concept of Doctor/Patient privilege, Sombra?” The younger woman rolled her eyes.

“Cut the crap, Doc. I’m not asking for his blood type.” Moira picked up a syringe with an impressively sized needle and studied it meaningfully.

“The commander isn’t feeling well and is getting some much needed rest in his quarters. If you wake him, I should be very annoyed.” Sombra put her hands up in a placating gesture.

“The old man needs his beauty sleep, yo comprendo. Widow was worried about him, that’s all.” Widowmaker gave a derisive snort as she “ _just happened_ ” to walk by the lab.

“Excellent,” said Moira. “Now we’ve established that no one is dying today: Will you all kindly get the hell out of my lab?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please tell me what you think and if you'd like me to keep exploring this topic. I could headcanon all day! :D


End file.
